


hey there pretty boy

by keithsgaythoughts



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff and Angst, Lance is a god, M/M, Voltron, and keith is in love, i even decided to work on some smut for you guys, i guess, klance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 03:45:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 16,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11638254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keithsgaythoughts/pseuds/keithsgaythoughts
Summary: Klance AU, in which Lance is a god and Keith is the boy who catches his eye.





	1. CHAPTER 01

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first multi-chaptered fic that I've ever gotten around to posting! The entire thing is written and I am currently in the editing stage, so I will be posting chapters as I finish working on them - updates should be fairly often. End goal is 15 chapters, about 17000 words. Enjoy!

When Keith was a kid, he enjoyed the rain. He liked sitting on his mom’s lap and watching lightning through their kitchen windows. Something about the dark weather made the world seem a lot smaller, and quieter, and safer.

 

Now, as he leans his elbows on the counter, he thinks about biking home. His shift ended twenty minutes ago and Keith should really be locking up, but he hasn’t gathered the courage to head out in the storm. Theoretically speaking, there  _ is  _ still daylight out there, hidden under sheets of rain and inky clouds. Keith jingles the set of keys on his fingers and wonders if he’ll ever see the sun again. 

 

The weather network plays on his phone - it makes him squirm with discomfort yet he forces himself to watch. This is one of the worst storms to ever hit Arus. Though most of it happens over the ocean, the town’s location means they are struck hard, also. Wind has taken down trees, rain has flooded the streets, while thunder and lightning dance over tall waves on a very dark, very angry ocean. Keith has not slept in days.

 

Most of his recent nights have been spent huddled under a blanket on the couch, while his brother snores in the chair beside him, having attempted to stay up and eventually falling victim to his exhaustion. Keith has gotten used to the storms - sort of. What he’s actually gotten used to is the shaking and sweating and feeling nauseous when the power goes out. It’s a routine.

 

Eventually, Keith slips on his jacket and takes his time on the way to the back door, squinting with disapproval at the wall of rain. He hides under the overhang and checks his phone one last time. His brother, and also the shop owner, had sent him a text only a few minutes ago. 

 

**from: shiro** _ roads are messy. probably won’t be back til 11, will drive you if you want to wait _

 

As the only brother with a car, Shiro always makes an effort to give him a ride when the weather looks nasty. This time, unfortunately, Shiro is out of town on business and 11pm is over two hours away. He can be home in less than ten minutes, if he can handle getting a little wet.

 

(A lot wet). 

 

Somewhere in the mass overhead, there is the telltale growl of thunder. Keith winces as he tucks his phone into a safe pocket. 

 

Motivated by the thought of his comfortable couch indent, he pulls his hood low over his eyes and sprints across the parking lot to his well-loved bike, Red. It’s a battle to keep his balance in the wind that whistles around him. With each crack of lightning, Keith squints his eyes further as he tries to hold the bike steady at the side of the road. He pedals hard, wheels sending off a constant spray of water as they chewed up the pavement. It doesn’t take long before he is soaked to the bone and chattering with cold. 

 

Downpours used to excite Keith. He and Shiro would slide around the grass in their backyard, and come inside dripping water, covered in mud and lawn clippings. They would both be shivering and smiling as they were ushered into the shower together for their parents to rinse them clean, clothes and all. 

 

Red hops the curb as they turn onto the road that borders the ocean. A rusting white guardrail is all that separates the pavement from an empty beach, giving Keith an unobstructed view of the water, marred by rain. His bike slows almost instantly. He’s overwhelmed by the sheer vastness of it, something that used to inspire wonder in him. 

 

He remembers, vaguely, leaning against the rail with his family and watching storm clouds roll in. Sky and sea were inseparable as rain blurred the horizon. Lightning flashed over the water. The sight filled him with an energy not unlike the air around him. They would race home, tucking themselves safely inside before the storm, which had seemed so far away over the ocean, swept their town up in swirling winds and fat raindrops. 

 

More recently, Keith remembers hiding under the kitchen table as weather more powerful than he could ever remember shook their windows and filled the room with so much noise. Shiro was sitting beside him, trying to act brave. He was fourteen. Only fourteen, and Keith was half that. It had happened suddenly. Once the boys would have been exhilarated in the face of such a storm, but now they were alone and wondering when their parents would be home because it had been hours, and Keith was scared.

 

Hours turned into days turned into months. Even over a decade later, Keith still finds himself watching the horizon as if he will see their boat returning to shore.

 

Tonight he sees nothing on the water. He turns himself in the direction of home - opposite what it used to be, when he was a child - and lifts his feet to the pedals again.

 

A gust nearly topples his bike as Keith stumbles to a stop. On the beach, a tall shadow hovers at the edge of the water. A person. They stand with their back to Keith, and in the downpour, it’s impossible to find anything discernable about their features, yet they seem to be slouched as if in pain. He watches in silence as the figure straightens up and begins to hobble into the frothing tide. 

 

He wants to call out to them, though the words are smothered before they have a chance to leave his mouth. The water welcomes them, snaking around their legs, tugging at them with hunger. Keith narrows his eyes through the rain, blinking hard as he loses track of the shadow. No matter how hard he stares he cannot find them again. His chest tightens as he realizes that they may have been pulled under. At high tide, in weather like this, even the shallow water can have a strong enough current to knock someone down. 

 

Keith tosses his bike aside, sprinting awkwardly across wet sand and slamming on the brakes before he touches the edge of the water. The wave is drawn back into the ocean, while he stands at a safe distance. The person is nowhere to be seen. If there was even something that Keith could have done, it’s too late now. 

 

He lingers at the water for a moment longer before retreating to stand up Red, shivering from both cold and nerves, fumbling to find the pedals. He does not look back. 

 

Keith sleeps - for once - on the couch in the apartment that he and Shiro share, curled into a tight ball with his head under a pillow as he attempts to muffle the storm outside. When he wakes to light grey skies and fading puddles, thoughts of the shadow on the beach are distant, and he wonders if they are nothing more than fleeting fragments of a dream.


	2. CHAPTER 02

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i forgot to mention this when i posted the first chapter and i'm too lazy to edit that since it's just easier to say it now. all of my chapters will be 1000-1200 words in length.

**three months later**

 

Welcome to Arus, town of tourists and old guys with more money than common sense. 

 

Blessed with blue skies, heavy sun and sparkling ocean in the summer months, their year-round trademark is copious amounts of rain, and Keith has gradually come to terms with the idea that he could drown on land during their wet season. 

 

It rains for the third day in a row, this time only a light drizzle that fills Keith with annoyance more than anxiety. He groans inwardly at the sloppy footprints on the floor. Can’t people learn to wipe their feet on the big,  _ obvious  _ mat by the door? 

 

Although Keith can physically feel his face starting to get sore from scowling, he likes his job. A lot. The store used to belong to his grandparents, but after one passed away and the other left on a spontaneous trip around Europe, it was left in the hands of his older brother, Shiro. Most of the boys’ memories from...  _ after _ ...involve the shop. Keith really does enjoy the place.

 

Voltron. They specialize in selling Cool Shit. Some art, some furniture, clothing, even some Arus souvenirs - anything that they could put a pricetag on. 

 

He doesn’t mind his co-workers, either. Besides Shiro there is Hunk, a big friendly guy who sometimes brings homemade snacks for everyone, and Shay, a college student from the next town over who helps out during school breaks and over the summer. 

 

The one thing that bothers Keith are the customers. Their location is perfect - a quiet oceanside town full of old and rich people, who had the kind of money to spend on Voltron’s outdated collectibles, along with the tourists who flocked in when the beaches were open, willing to fork out some cash for a neat little souvenir. Except Keith hates old rich people, and tourists.

 

Though the town rarely sees sun through its permanent springtime cloud cover, there were some days when it was warm, breezy and not pouring rain, and those days should be increasing in number as summer gets closer, except it’s early June and still as wet as it was in April. The miserable weather has kept away most customers for the morning. Keith had wandered around and looked at some of their stuff, even taken an hour to thoroughly sort all of the books on the shelf in the corner. So far he has sold a little glass bird on a stick to an elderly lady looking for garden decor. 

 

Eventually he had retreated to the front desk where he sits now, staring blankly at his phone screen.

 

Once it reaches two in the afternoon, there’s still no sign of life in the store. Keith is starting to wonder if there’s even life in this town, or if all the oldies finally croaked. He rubs a smudge on the glass display case next to the register. It leaves fingerprints. Another reason why he hates customers - they can’t keep their goddamn grubby hands off of  _ anything _ .

 

The door chimes. Tacky. Keith hates the bell. Shiro always tries to halfheartedly argue that it goes with their image, and Keith always tells him to shut up. He pauses before he looks up, praying that it’s going to be his brother finally showing up for his shift two hours late for his shift. (It’s not).

 

Keith takes a deep breath because  _ shit _ it’s a customer and  _ shit  _ said customer is really, really hot. 

 

He’s quite tanned, with soft brown hair to complement his skin tone. His face is smooth and absent of any marks or blemishes, and his eyes are a vibrant blue that ties the entire image together. Keith is polite enough not to stare, but he takes as many glances as he dares once the man is focused on one of their many wall displays, head tilted back to look at the decorative road signs and license plates. The grandfather clock plays a brassy tune from across the store to announce a new hour - it’s exactly three minutes and forty-two seconds late. Shiro still hasn’t fixed it.

 

When Keith glances back to the man, he’s looking in Keith’s direction, also. There is something about those eyes that leaves Keith feeling like he’s lost. 

 

“Hey there, pretty boy,” he drawls, in a voice that can only be described as suave. 

 

“Um,” Keith says, because what else do you say to that? “Hi.”  _ Holy fuck,  _ but he stops himself before saying that out loud. 

 

He forgets his manners and stares directly at the man’s face, unsure of what to do as the guy - very obviously - gives Keith a once-over. 

 

“I like your hair.” 

 

Keith automatically reaches up to brush his hair away from his face. Usually he keeps it secured in a ponytail at work, but he had forgotten to grab an elastic when he left the apartment in the morning. 

 

“What do they call it? A mullet?” The man laughs, walking towards the counter, and it’s not like Keith hasn’t heard that a hundred times before from Shiro, but something about the way this guy says it makes the teasing more bearable. He shrugs. His voice has officially left the building. “Whatever, it’s cute.” 

 

His voice is currently boarding a bus to another fucking  _ country _ . 

 

“I’m Lance. What can I call you?” So-called Lance leans on the edge of the counter, almost obnoxiously close. Keith tries not to dwell on the fact that Lance’s gorgeous face is right there. He must have some crazy skin care routine because there is no way someone just naturally looks like that and oh, Lance is still waiting for an answer.

 

“Uh, Keith.” Ah, the words return, if not a bit more croaky than usual.

 

Lance smiles, and then leans back to look at the display next to the counter, seeming bored. “Well, Keith,” he says distractedly, “I need you to help me find a beautiful ring for a beautiful lady.”

 

Oh.  _ Oh. _

 

“Y-yeah,” Keith says, his brain sorting rapidly through all of the possibilities. Is Lance engaged? Or maybe about to be engaged? He feels his face go slightly red as he understands how terribly wrong he read the situation. Keith tries to remember what to say as he shuffles around the counter to look at the assortment of jewellery pieces. Shiro likes those the best. He was always trying to find the neatest ones to sell. “We have quite a few, but I’m going to be honest, I don’t know much about rings. If you’re looking for a wider selection or something more modern I’d suggest an actual jewellers…”

 

Keith looks up and finds Lance gazing unfocused at him, head in the clouds. The young man seems to recollect himself as the sentence tapers away, waving off Keith’s spiel casually. “Nah, it has to be something special. Generic won’t cut it for this girl. I just need you to tell me if it’s pretty enough.” 

 

_ Don’t you have an eye for pretty things?  _ Keith thinks, and then blushes, wanting to stuff his own foot in his mouth even though he doesn’t actually say it.

 

Lance has moved down to look at some more of the selection. Keith wonders how old he is - he doesn’t seem much older than Keith himself, who is only twenty. He assumes that a guy like Lance - a smooth talker, that is - would wait longer before settling down with a wife…and he’s taking this a lot less serious than most people do. It isn’t the first time that somebody’s come to the store with the intention of buying for their significant other, but they are typically way more picky about it.

 

“Here, what about this?” Lance points to a ring at the front of the case, one with an intricate golden band complete with a floral pattern and a large, pale pink stone set in the center. It’s certainly handsome.

 

Keith leans over to look at it closely. He thinks he remembers when Shiro had first found it in a box of knick-knacks someone had given to the store to sell. His brother had been quite excited about it’s worth - much more than what they had paid the lady to take the jewellry off of her hands. “It’s quite expensive.” 

 

This earns him a loud laugh. “Aren’t I supposed to be the one saying that?” Keith does vaguely recall the quick speech that Shiro had given him before letting him handle the customers, ending with: the more expensive it is, the more you try to sell it. 

 

“Um,” he tries again.

 

“Don’t worry, money doesn’t mean that much to me anyways.” 

 

Keith’s stomach sinks even lower. Not only is this hot customer who may or may not have flirted with Keith actually already in a relationship, but he’s also the type of rich asshole that Keith sees often in this place. The ones that are friendly and nice while quietly rubbing it in your face that they can afford everything you dream of having. He always struggles to decide if that’s better than the kind of tourists who spend forever poking around in the store and leave empty-handed, just there to  _ check things out _ . 

 

“Yeah…” Keith says, walking back to the counter to grab their set of keys and open the case for Lance before taking him and the ring to the cash.

 

The young man thanks him with a wide smile, holding the ring up to his face to give it a good look before sliding it into his coat pocket. Keith bites his lip. He’d been hoping that Lance would be more careful with something he just spent that kind of money on. Keith goes back to lock up the display case again as Lance marches into the storm like the rain doesn’t even touch him.

 

Someone else slides in the door before it closes, and this time Keith is lucky. His brother gives a sheepish grin as he pulls his hood down and starts to peel his coat off. 

 

“I’m so sorry- I don’t know why I didn’t wake up-”

 

“Relax, Shiro. I managed to fend off the crowd,” Keith smirks and looks around the empty store. “That guy just bought your fancy ring. The pink one.” 

 

“Really?” 

 

“Yeah. He didn’t even think about it. Paid in cash, too.” 

 

Both of them grin at each other. This feels good. It feels comfortable. The rest of Keith’s shift passes quickly now that Shiro is there to entertain him, and he stays to keep his brother company for the last few hours that the store is open. They close early and stop at Keith’s favourite restaurant to pick up dinner before they go home, and he only thinks about Lance once. 

 

Maybe twice.

 


	3. CHAPTER 03

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had this ready to post yesterday and then i completely forgot about it,, whoops. i'm trying to have the next chapter up hopefully before the new season because i doubt i'll be working on much when that comes out.

Shiro sleeps through his alarm again that morning, though Keith hears it loud and clear all the way from his bedroom. He gets dressed although he hadn’t been planning to and leaves his brother a note on the door where Keith knows he will find it, amidst a panicked rush in a few hours.

 

_ don’t freak out. i’ll cover your shift.  _

 

It’s not like he has anything better to do, anyways.

 

Three hours later, and Keith is wiping down their collection of old records and CDs, humming quietly to himself, when he feels a tap on the shoulder. He jumps, nearly dropping his copy of  _ Revolver _ . Keith carefully sets it down in its proper spot and straightens up to address the customer. 

 

“Hi - oh, Lance, right?” Keith chokes out. As if he didn’t remember the boy’s name. 

 

Lance nods, eyes sparkling. “And you’re Keith. So, uh, I came back to thank you for that ring. She really liked it.” He turns before Keith can say anything, sweeping the store in his cold blue gaze. “Also, I wanted to check this place out. I didn’t get to look enough yesterday.” Practically gliding on his long legs, Lance wanders over towards a shelf with a haphazard collection of metal bits. He picks up a glossy black candle stand. 

 

Keith watches him explore, as Lance examines each item with a childlike admiration. He tries to focus on his job but finds that his eyes continue drifting to the other boy. 

 

“So, are you the only one who works here?” Lance says, peering at Keith around a coloured glass orb. 

 

“There’s a few others. It’s my brother’s store, actually.” 

 

“You have a brother? What’s he like?” The questions come rapid-fire as Lance sets down his newest find and walks back towards Keith. He leans against a sturdy old dresser, and with a lithe smile he asks, “is he as handsome as you?” 

 

Keith blushes furiously. “Are you...flirting with me?” 

 

“What would you say if I was?” 

 

“I thought - aren’t you...with someone? The girl you bought the ring for,” he adds, noting the puzzled expression that Lance wears.

 

The confusion quickly contorts into something else as his face screws up like he tasted something sour. “Oh, no no no no. You thought - I was -  _ Allura _ ? Definitely not. I just owed her, that’s all,” he shakes his head. Keith can’t help by give a soft sigh of relief. The words go over his head as Lance continues to ramble, “wow, she’s like, a cousin. Or something. I can’t believe…”

 

“You must have done something pretty bad to owe her that much,” Keith said, moving to dust off their array of glass pieces. 

 

Lance gives a crooked grin. “It’s more like insurance. I may be...breaking some rules, that she doesn’t know about yet,” his words die off and Keith looks over to see that Lance is looking at one of the few crafty mirrors they had hanging around the store. The way he stares intensely at his reflection, seeming deep in thought, stirs something strange in Keith. He opens his mouth to speak when the bell over the door rings abruptly in the otherwise quiet shop.

 

“Hey Keith, sorry I’m late, I almost forgot to bring these,” his co-worker Hunk lets the door swing closed behind him, balancing a small box in his arms. Keith glances at the clock. 12:08 - barely late. Hunk looks between the two of them, “am I interrupting something?” 

 

“What? No,” Keith says, feeling his face get warm as he backs away from Lance, who seems oddly silent for once. He moves to the counter and directs the conversation towards the box in Hunk’s arms. “What’d you bring?” 

 

“Oh! Cookies,” Hunk grins, setting them down on the counter and opening the lid. He looks towards Lance. “Hey, do you want one?” 

 

“Uh, sure,” the tall boy shuffles towards them. He gingerly takes a cookie from the top of the pile, while Keith quickly snatches one and sticks it in his mouth. Lance follows suits, with more respect for the food. “They’re good!” Lance seems to cheer up, smiling around his mouthful.

 

“Of course they are. This is Hunk. He’s like, chef extraordinaire,” Keith gives the big man a friendly elbow to the shoulder. 

 

Lance introduces himself, and then starts to wander towards the door. “I should be going, before ‘Lura comes looking for me.” He waves at the both of them as he leaves.

 

Hunk turns around immediately once Lance is out of the store. “Okay, okay. Tell me the  _ whole  _ story. How’d you guys meet?” 

 

“Hunk, it’s not like that.” 

 

“Oh, okay. But you  _ want  _ it to be?” 

 

Keith’s cheeks burn. “Maybe,” he mumbles, knowing it’s not worth it to say otherwise. Hunk’s friendliness made it difficult to argue with him.

 

The guy grins, patting Keith on the shoulder. Hunk had been working at the store since he was fifteen; it was his first job. Technically he has been an employee longer than Keith and Shiro themselves. Anyways, the three of them had known each other for years. Keith knew that he could confide in Hunk.

 

“He’s just a boy...who happens to be cute, okay? I don’t really know him, but there’s something weird about him,” Keith says, looking thoughtfully out the window. There is no rain yet, but the clouds warn otherwise. “I can’t explain it.” 

 

“Yeah, okay, Romeo,” Hunk laughs, “have you seen Shiro today?” 

 

Keith shakes his head. His brother can probably sleep for weeks at a time if nothing disturbs him. Shiro has always loved his sleep, but it has only gotten progressively worse as he outgrew his teen years, always tired and late getting out of bed. Especially with the added stress of running Voltron, which - although they both avoid speaking about it - is starting to struggle for profit. People just weren’t as interested in buying junk as they used to be. 

 

Hunk avoids the topic, too. Keith knows he’s a sensitive guy and will probably be devastated when Voltron finally reaches its end. Already on what are likely its last legs, Keith can only hope that the store will hold out long enough for Hunk to find steady work somewhere else. Shiro would be heartbroken if he left any of his employees without an income while closing the doors for good. 

 

“How are you guys holding up?” Hunk asks, carefully poking into Keith’s personal life. He already knows the whole story, basically as well as Keith and Shiro do, but it doesn’t make it any easier to share. 

 

“We’re okay,” Keith says. He takes another cookie and his rag, and heads over to wipe down some wicker furniture.


	4. CHAPTER 04

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's the new chapter as promised!
> 
> so, i realize that i've been a fairly quiet author for the first few chapters and i just wanted to say that i really do appreciate every hit and kudos that this story gets. as for the handful of you that have commented, even though i haven't replied, thank you so much!! it means a lot :) basically i just want to say thank you to everyone who's taken time out of their day to check this fic out, i love you all !
> 
> (there are some small notes at the end of the chapter if you wouldn't mind checking those out as well, once you're done reading...)
> 
> I AM NOT FUCKING READY FOR TOMORROW. OH MY GODDDD.

“Keith! Let’s  _ go _ ,” Shiro yells from the door, dancing impatiently on his toes. He’s been up for at least an hour now. Keith has been ignoring him for about the same amount of time.

 

The younger brother stumbles out of his bedroom, tangled in a big red sweater that doesn’t want to come off. Shiro hides a smile even though the other can’t see him. “Don’t laugh at me!” Keith snaps, because he can  _ feel  _ Shiro judging him. Sibling’s instinct. Finally he works his scrawny arms out of their fabric prison and tosses the sweater on the floor. He pouts as he does so, and his face stays that way as he hunts for his sneakers, wanting nothing more than to crawl back into bed. 

 

The brothers had become less inclined to their early morning jogs since Shiro had taken over Voltron and Keith started putting in forty hours a week. Unfortunately, Shiro has decided that enough is enough and insists on dragging Keith out that morning, despite the fact that the air is already turning humid and sticky.

 

As expected, Keith’s face is warm and slick with sweat within the first ten minutes of their run. Usually he has no difficulty keeping up with Shiro - nine out of ten times he could beat his brother in any race - but he’s really not feeling it today. Keith begins to drag his feet and hardly notices as he slows to a walk while they pass the beach. 

 

Shiro glances over his shoulder, slightly out of breath as he pauses his jog. He inhales the heavy, salty air through his nose. “Wanna run down to the wharf?” 

 

Keith sets his jaw. “No.” He picks up the pace again and passes Shiro, ignoring the look of concern from his brother. There was a time when Keith loved to visit the wharf, to climb down at low tide and explore the sand. Maybe they would have stayed longer at the beach and goofed around in the water. Without their parents, however, the experience seemed lacking. Keith keeps the ocean at a distance. It’s his rule. 

 

With Shiro matching his strides, Keith takes them away from the road by the water and veers deeper into town. They skip the residential streets and jog directly into the center of tourist-heaven, stores and pubs that will be bustling with ten times as much activity once sunny weather is more of a guarantee and less wishful thinking. A couple shopkeepers open doors and set out signs for the occasional visitor. 

 

Shiro pauses for a polite exchange with Iverson, a family friend whom Keith doesn’t care for. He stands a few paces ahead and surveys the street. That’s when he notices the familiar mop of brown hair peering into store windows. 

 

Keith stares at his brother and wills him to talk faster. “Shiro,” he goes as far as to interrupt the conversation, because there is a specific reason why he pestered Hunk into promising not to mention Keith’s ‘crush’ to his brother. Tapping his fingers against his leg, Keith glances across the road again - a fatal mistake. Lance must have noticed him and seems to be squinting in his direction, lighting up as he recognizes Keith’s face. 

 

“Hey Keith!” The smiling boy jogs across the pavement and skips happily onto the curb, landing at Keith’s side.

 

Shiro, noticing the new arrival, picks the perfect time to end his conversation with Iverson and rejoin his brother. He looks between the two of them. 

 

“Hi! The name’s Lance. I’m Keith’s friend.” 

 

Lance offers an enthusiastic hand to shake while Shiro laughs and teases, “Oh? I wasn’t aware that he had any.”

 

“Shiro!” the younger brother squawks in outrage. 

 

“I like your brother, Keith,” Lance giggles. He falls into step with the two of them, hands slipping comfortably into his pocket. Keith itches with a stupid irritation. It bothers him how easy Lance finds this. “So, what are you guys doing today?”

 

“Oh - we’re, um,” Keith stumbles over an excuse as his brother wastes no time interrupting with, “nothing.”

 

“Cool! I’m going to check out the wharf. Care to join?”

 

Keith winces internally as a pair of bright blue eyes smile at him. He hates Shiro, but mostly he hates himself, and it almost pains him to mutter, “s-sure.” 

 

His cheeks flush as Shiro gives a subtle smirk, saying, “I’m going to run up to the store. I’ll catch up later!” Keith opens his mouth to protest, but his brother is already waving goodbye over his shoulder as he jogs down the road. He solemnly promises to suffocate Shiro in his sleep. 

 

Keith wipes his face with the collar of his t-shirt. He can feel himself burning up as Lance taunts, “looking good, pretty boy!” and Keith peels his damp hair from his forehead. “You could use a swim.”

 

“I don’t swim.” 

 

“What?! Why not?” 

 

“I’ve kind of, uh, forgotten how to.” 

 

Lance shakes his head, muttering something about how they’ll have to fix that, and takes Keith’s hand in his. He doesn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary as he drags the blushing boy along. 

 

A half hour later, and the two of them are watching the last of the tide come in. Lance perches on the short wooden rail and dangles his feet over the edge of the dock while Keith sits cross-legged a foot away from the edge. Some people have come and gone, taking their boats that rest anchored further out in the bay. Keith is baking in the sun and cursing his life. Lance and his gorgeous natural tan seemed to glow in the warm light, looking entirely at home. 

 

“You don’t like the water, do you?” Lance sighs softly, breaking the silence. “It scares you.” 

 

Keith’s chest feels tight. He thought he had been making a decent effort to seem as though he was enjoying himself. Today, under a clear sky, the ocean looks gentler than usual. A steady blue that sparkles where the sun hits - it’s soothing, but Keith can’t shake his anxiety. He can’t seem to get rid of the unspoken disappointment that hangs in the air, either, although he’s not sure where that comes from. 

 

“Sorry,” he says.

 

“Why are you apologizing?” 

 

“I don’t know.” 

 

Lance nods, eyes drifting over the horizon with lazy attention, seeing but not really processing. “I love the ocean. It’s beautiful.” 

 

“Yeah, it is,” Keith murmurs. 

 

The blue-eyed boy’s smile is as wide as if he just won the lottery. 

 

They leave the wharf in quiet company, feet carrying them down the road in the vague direction of Keith’s apartment. He has no idea where Lance is staying - he’s already figured out that Lance is new in town, maybe an early bird tourist - but the other boy seems blissfully unaware as they walk. He hesitates as they pass the beach.

 

“Hey, Keith, can I show you something?” 

 

Keith hardly has time to nod before Lance takes his hand and he’s ungracefully dragged over the guardrail. Lance crouches at the edge of the water, grinning playfully as the waves splash his toes and recede just as quickly. Keith hovers a few feet away. 

 

“Come on,” Lance calls him. 

 

“Lance-”

 

“It won’t bite, Keith, it’s just water.” He scoops some in his hand as Keith creeps closer, lifting it to show the other boy. “Look. It doesn’t hurt.” His voice is sincere, even though the words sound sarcastic at first. Lance spreads his fingers and flips his palm over - but instead of pouring back into the ocean, the water clings to his tanned skin and spirals up his forearm. Lance wears it like a sleeve.

 

Keith swallows, watching as the boy gives his arm a shake and the water drips off like it should have done in the first place. 

 

“What-”

 

Lance hums, turning away from the ocean. “It’s hot. Let’s get ice cream.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, i came to the conclusion as i was editing this one that it would be stupid to leave this without a follow-up chapter in the next couple of days. i had intended to just wait until the weekend was over because there's the new season, i have cousins visiting and many many shifts at work for the next week or so. HOWEVER, i've already started editing the next chapter and to be honest it's not in terrible shape so hopefully i will be able to have it up tomorrow, if i remember to get it posted and season 3 doesn't kill me first.


	5. CHAPTER 05

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't slept in almost 30 hours. I think this chapter is okay enough to be posted. Hopefully. 
> 
> OH BOY. SEASON 3 LEFT ME WITH SO MANY UNANSWERED QUESTIONS BUT IT WAS ALSO THE GREATEST THING I'VE EVER SEEN.
> 
> next chapter will be out probably next Tuesday. no promises though because my two jobs are currently trying to work me to death.

He doesn’t make sense of what’s happening until he’s standing in line at one of the town’s many ice cream parlors, having witnessed Lance order a monstrous, unnatural concoction of flavours - which is almost more impressive than whatever Keith saw at the beach - and when it’s his turn to order, Keith just awkwardly coughs, “uh, I’m lactose intolerant.” 

 

Lance sits beside Keith on the bench outside the shop, pouting as he licks his ice cream. “You should’ve told me. We could have gotten something else-”

 

“I really don’t care about the ice cream Lance, just eat yours before it melts. And can you please explain to me what the fuck just happened?” His voice kicks in as if someone had flipped a switch. He realizes that he’s gripping the edge of the bench with a concerning degree of force and tries to relax his fingers.

 

The boy stares intensely at the cone, catching a drip with his tongue before it lands on his hand, and then glances to Keith. “Yeah, so, I’m a god.” 

 

Easy. As if it’s nothing.

 

“Specifically, like, god of oceans, tides, storms-” Lance tilts his head thoughtfully and counts on his fingers, ice cream leaning dangerously. 

 

“S-storms?” 

 

“Yeah, I…” He trails off at the expression on Keith’s face. “I guess you could say that I cause them?” 

 

Keith looks at his lap. He’s seven again, clinging to the table leg and sniffling as rain beats the window. With every crash of thunder he hides his face and worries that the house will cave in around them. Then he’s twelve, hiding under a blanket while his grandparents watch the news on TV one room over and Shiro has passed out on the bed beside him. Seventeen, and cancelling his plans just because the skies are grey.

 

Finally, he’s twenty, and anxiously checking the weather because storms mean panic attacks and sleepless nights. He’s sitting in the breakroom at the store because Shiro’s working and Keith doesn’t want to be home alone. He’s taking pills when it starts to rain just to keep it under some form of control. 

 

“Keith?” 

 

“I have to go.” 

 

Lance doesn’t try to stop him, or follow him. Maybe he anticipates a reaction like this after dropping that kind of bomb. Keith feels his throat closing up, almost as if the sky had clouded over and thunder bellows as a storm approaches, except...the sun is still shining. 

 

Back at the apartment, Shiro is reading a book in the kitchen, apparently satisfied that Hunk and Shay had Voltron under control. He peers around the corner as Keith is kicking off his shoes and trails after him into his bedroom.

 

While his brother flops facedown on the bed, Shiro leans against the doorframe with crossed arms. “So, this Lance boy?” 

 

“No.” 

 

“Really? ‘Cause Hunk told me that you said he was cute,” he says lightly, moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

 

Keith shoots him a glare from the bed. “It’s not happening.”  _ I swear, if Shiro tries to act like my dad and give me girl advice.  _

 

“Are you  _ sure _ ?” He leans closer with a slight smile.

 

“Shiro, I said it’s not happening!” 

 

Keith regrets snapping as soon as he’s done it, but he can’t take it back so instead he buries his face further into the blankets. He knows that he’s going to start tearing up if he keeps talking - he can tell by the way his words cracked, just a little, so Keith keeps his mouth closed. 

 

He exhales shakily as he feels Shiro’s hand on his back, rubbing slow circles like their mother used to do when the boys were upset. Keith curls in on himself. It’s worse when he starts to tremble and then he’s crying into the blanket, gentle hiccups and warm tears that don’t have any rhyme or reason to them. As many times as Shiro says it and Keith repeats it in his head,  _ I’m okay,  _ he can’t make his body believe it.

 

Finally the episode subsides and Keith lets out a tired sigh. 

 

“Are you going to be alright?” Shiro asks quietly. 

 

“I think - yeah,” Keith sighs. The feeling of panic has suppressed itself for now. He closes his eyes and focuses on breathing.

 

When he wakes up, his brain struggles to orient itself. It’s more misleading because the sun is setting and his clock reads 7:03pm. Shiro is sitting in the bed beside him, back resting on the wall and eyes closed. Keith almost feels like he  _ is  _ fifteen again. 

 

His brother blinks and looks around sleepily. He observes the shadows growing in the room, giving Keith a look because they both work tomorrow and something tells Keith that they probably won’t be getting much sleep tonight. 

 

“Movie marathon?” Keith suggests, as Shiro slides off the bed and stretches his arms over his head. 

 

“Yeah,” his brother agrees as he shuffles towards their living room, “but I get to pick, because I’m not sitting through another one of your dumb conspiracy documentaries.” 

 

“What? But you loved Mothman!” 

 

Keith feels more like himself as he drags himself from the bed and follows Shiro. He stops by the bathroom to splash cold water on his face, ignoring the red-rimmed eyes that stare at him in the mirror, and settles onto the couch to see that Shiro has already selected one of his intense action movies. 

 

It takes some time, but he eventually lets himself become immersed in the activity on the screen. He’s thankful for a distraction despite the fact that he doesn’t follow the plot and is more confused at the end of the movie than the beginning. Keith always figured that action movies were supposed to be simple, yet he can never get into them the way Shiro does. 

 

He does manage to persuade Shiro into letting him watch an hour long film about how the government faked the moon landing. Keith has already seen it, but he’s not about to let his brother know that - especially when Shiro hides an eye roll and stifles a laugh at some of the ridiculous evidence that they attempt to propose, making an effort to enjoy the documentary for Keith, who is really just relishing in the opportunity to torture his sibling.  

 

It’s the first time that Keith is late for work. 


	6. CHAPTER 06

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is actually out on time how crazy is that. in all honesty i don't really like this chapter, it feels kind of rushed to me but i didn't really know how to draw it out any longer and this seemed like the best choice for my style of writing. anyways, it's not THAT terrible and i wanted to get this out before i was swamped by real life, so we're just gonna have to deal with it. 
> 
> thank you all for the lovely responses i have gotten on this fic so far!! :) i really do appreciate every hit/kudos/comment. 
> 
> no idea when the next chapter will be out. possibly on the weekend? i'm going to try and work on it whenever i get a spare hour.

Keith paces around the store for the entire day, staying late with Shiro to make up for the hours missed in the morning. He can’t stop worrying about Lance - partially hoping that the boy will show up before closing, and crossing his fingers that they’ll never cross paths again.

 

He starts to feel guilty for thinking that way. 

 

With one hour left before Voltron is officially closed for the night, Keith is struck with a realization. He stops his pacing and stands with his eyes locked on the glass door.

 

“Shiro?” He calls out, waiting for his brother’s muffled reply from the back of the store. “I have to go. I’ll see you at home.” Keith takes his jacket from behind the register and practically sprints out the door, grabbing his bike and coasting onto the road with his loose clothing fluttering around him. His body runs on autopilot as Keith bypasses the beach and pedals frantically in the direction of the wharf.

 

It feels as if he can’t get there fast enough - if he waits any longer, Lance might slip between his fingers for good. 

 

Keith tosses his bike aside with a silent apology for Red’s rough treatment and careless ownership as he runs away without even locking her up. He dodges slow-walking pedestrians on their way back from the boats, urgency overriding any politeness he might have possessed once upon a time. 

 

He’s there. Tanned skin glowing in early sunset, watching the sky from the corner of the dock, Lance doesn’t quite blend in to the rest of the scenery. 

 

Before Keith even reaches him, the young man turns around and greets him with a wide smile. 

 

“You’re back,” Lance says gently. 

 

“Yeah.” He’s out of breath. 

 

“And you believe me?” 

 

“You made it - pretty hard not - not to believe you, after what - what you did,” Keith pants. He must have been holding his breath for the whole ride. 

 

Lance’s grin shrinks until his lips only contain a faint trace of the emotion. “You’re okay with it?”

 

Struggling to get his wheezing under control, Keith gives a weak nod. He will be. Lance turns back to the sun and Keith can feel his breath running out again when he sees the beautiful, regal face outlined in golden sun. How could anyone ever doubt that this boy is anything except a god?

 

“Let’s walk,” the god says, “I can miss Allura’s show for one night.” 

 

**▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬**

 

The convenient thing about gods is that they seem to know everything already. 

 

It saves Keith a lot of emotional stress when he tries to explain himself for running away.  _ My parents _ ... Lance politely lets it slide that he’s already aware of the situation. He pats Keith on the shoulder. “You’re handling this better than most, especially considering...that,” Lance tells him.

 

“I think I’m still in shock,” is Keith’s dazed response. 

 

In three days, he quickly learns that Lance’s supernatural status changes nothing. He’s still bubbly and friendly and gets a long a little bit too well with the others at Voltron. If anything, he seems more comfortable in his skin, at least around Keith. 

 

It does bother Keith in the beginning that he’s an open book to the other boy, whom Keith hardly knows anything about except for the following - 1. his name is Lance and 2. he’s a god. (and 3. he’s hot, but Keith doesn’t dwell on that). The uneasy feeling subsides when he leans on the counter and watches Lance and Hunk bond over a brownie recipe. Turns out that Lance, however much of a know-it-all, wasn’t interested in food until he met Hunk and his cookies.

 

Of course, now that he has developed a taste for the stuff and discovered that his stomach is an endless pit, Lance is overly eager about every meal. It doesn’t take long before he drags Keith away from the store one evening after his shift. Normally he would hang around with Hunk since Shiro is out of town again, but it’s not like there’s only an empty apartment waiting for him now. There’s Lance. 

 

“Come on, you’re walking so slow!” The boy chirps, tugging on Keith’s sleeve like a child. 

 

“Sorry we can’t all be gods,” he fires back. Lance gives a hearty laugh. 

 

Although he pretends to be indifferent, Keith is just as excited as the one bouncing ahead of him. Any time they’ve spent together has been at the ocean or at the store, and he’s happy to be away from both while still spending time with Lance. 

 

They are seated quickly at the place that Lance chooses, leaving Keith to take in the sea-themed decor. The small restaurant isn’t one that he recognizes, as usually he and Shiro stick to places that are less tourist-oriented on the rare occasions that they actually go out. It’s fairly busy considering it’s still early in the season. 

 

The waitress introduces herself as Nyma, hands them each a narrow baby-blue menu and asks if they are travelling from far. Keith lets the other answer for both of them, not caring if the information is accurate, while his eyes scan the options. “Sort of,” Lance says vaguely with a crooked smile. Nyma laughs lightly when he asks, “so, sweetheart, what can you tell me about your drinks?” 

 

Keith mumbles a quiet,  _ just water _ , when she directs her attention to him, not sure if the twinge of jealousy he feels is justifiable. 

 

He stirs the ice around in his glass when Nyma places it in front of him, leaving again to give them more time with the menus. 

 

“Not even going to explore a little bit?” Lance says, taking a sip of whatever weird alcoholic brew he had ordered. Keith isn’t entirely sure how he manages to keep a smooth face while swallowing the liquid. 

 

“I don’t drink,” he offers, looking back at the laminated selection even though he’s already settled on something. 

 

Lance nods, humming into his glass. “Alcohol doesn’t have the same effect on gods as it does people, but we can still enjoy it.” 

 

“Yeah. Okay.”

 

“What’s wrong?” He sets the drink down and folds his arms on the table, examining Keith’s face. A sly smile crosses his own. “You’re jealous,” Lance croons.

 

Keith scoffs.

 

“It was when I called her sweetheart, right?” 

 

_ Yes _ . “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he sighs instead.

 

Lance laughs. “Don’t worry, Keith. You’re my only pretty boy.” 


	7. CHAPTER 07

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for 1000 hits and 100 kudos??! honestly wow. 
> 
> i'm trying to take less time to edit the chapters because i just want to get them posted. also i'm still insanely busy with work and i really want this to be mostly finished by the time i go back to school, so i don't have the time to be picking apart each one. if you notice something that needs to be fixed please let me know!! i already caught a couple of mistakes while i was posting this, sigh.

The god has developed a strange sort of friendship with Keith’s brother. He hasn’t decided if that’s a good thing. On one hand, it means that Shiro doesn’t have a problem with the guy who loiters around Voltron and gives Keith heart eyes all day.

 

On the other, it means the two of them can tag-team Keith.

 

“Don’t get me wrong, I love your hair, but maybe you should think about getting it cut,” Lance teases, reaching up to tug on the hair at the back of Keith’s head. He pushes Lance’s hand away with a red face.

 

“My hair is fine-”

 

“I’ve been telling him to cut it for a year!” Shiro yells from the front of the store. He pokes his head around one of the shelves. “Maybe he’ll actually do it now that you’ve suggested it.”

 

While the two of them laugh, Keith brushes his bangs away from his eyes and leans over to whisper in Lance’s ear. “You do realize if I chop it off that means no more ponytails, right?”

 

Lance giggles. “Okay! Okay, I take it back.”

 

Keith moves to organize their boxes of bracelet charms, placing them back in each colour’s designated spot. Sometimes they get mixed up after people come in and dig through them for ones they like, but there hasn’t been enough visitors for them to really be muddled. Mostly he’s just doing it to give himself a task instead of staring at Lance, or catching Lance staring at him.

 

Is it boosting his self-esteem to have a god blushing over him? Yes, absolutely.

 

Lance’s arm snakes around Keith’s waist and picks up a simple blue charm. He holds it up, examining the way that the stone catches the light. “This one’s nice.”

 

“You can have it for a nickel,” Keith tells him, trying not to focus on the fact that the colour matches Lance’s eyes, and nodding at the handmade _5¢ each_ sign.

 

Wearing a grin, Lance fishes the required coin out of his pocket and walks over to place it in the tip jar, the other boy watching him with an amused eyeroll. He goes back to sorting the pieces while Lance checks out every other one. For a god, he seems to have such a simple fascination with the dumb little charms. It feeds a question that has been brewing in Keith’s mind for a while.

 

“Lance...don’t take this the wrong way, I just - why are you here?” He asks softly, expecting an offended response from the god.

 

Instead, he is met with a raised eyebrow. “In case you haven’t figured it out, I _like_ you-”

 

“No, I mean, why are you in Arus?” Keith lowers his voice and glances around to make sure that his brother isn’t within hearing range. “You’re a god. Couldn’t you go anywhere that you wanted?”

 

Lance gives him a gentle smile. “I like this town. It is close to the ocean. Physically, yes, but...there is also a different kind of connection.”

 

Keith isn’t sure what to say to the quiet confession, so he swallows, nods and returns to his task. An hour later he finds himself leaning against the counter at the cash while Shiro is entertaining Lance. He tries to not be too concerned about that.

 

He’s tired, bored and can feel his eyes getting heavy when suddenly Lance appears in front of him and gives him a sly grin. “Want to go somewhere?”

 

“My shift doesn’t end-”

 

“Keith, get out of here!” Shiro calls from out of sight.

 

Pleased by his new partner-in-crime, Lance laughs joyously and drags Keith by his wrist to the front doors. “Come on, we’re young and in love.”

 

Keith lowers his voice to say, “okay, not sure how the whole god thing works, but I’m fairly certain you’re at _least_ a millennia older than I am.” Which is kind of weird, now that he thinks about it. Lance’s face looks so youthful.

 

“Something like that,” he chuckles.

 

“And since when were we in love?”

 

“Ever since you came back, pretty boy.”

 

Keith blushes as Lance winks teasingly, his hand sliding from Keith’s forearm to his fingers. They intertwine automatically as if they’ve been doing this for decades and not simply days. Everything about Lance is so smooth it almost makes Keith lightheaded.

 

They sit on the beach, talking quietly to avoid the ears of the handful of other groups that were occupying the sand. Soon the water is going to be bursting with families and friends on vacation. Keith hates the ocean even more when it’s packed with noisy tourists.

 

He’s still having trouble connecting blue-eyed Lance with the swirling, strong waters that fill their view for miles. The boy is too soft. Keith has silently made note that there hasn’t been anything more than a gentle rainfall for a whole week.

 

Lance seems completely at ease when he stretches his legs out in front of him, the waves splashing his toes every time they roll in, while Keith stays cross-legged and dry. He watches as the sky begins to fill with a canvas of reds and purples. “Allura and I make a good pair, don’t you think?” Lance murmurs, crossing his legs and happily watching the sun reflect on the sea. “Sky, water. It just goes together.”

 

“I thought you said you guys were cousins.”

 

“Our family tree is kind of skewered, Keith. It’s best not to ask questions.”

 

“You seemed pretty against the idea before…” Keith points out, recalling Lance’s frantic attempt to correct their initial misunderstanding.

 

A hazy look crosses his face. “Well, yeah, but that’s because I had eyes for somebody else.”

 

Keith flushes a rosy pink. He looks down at his hands, tracing a pattern in the sand as if it’s going to distract him. Lance has leaned closer and the subtle warmth of his breath is tickling Keith’s neck. Sometimes it’s hard to picture Lance as anything inhuman, especially when he’s...right...there.

 

“I may have forgotten something before,” Lance sighs in his ear, “I’m also the god of love.”


	8. CHAPTER 08

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE PLEASE READ THIS NOTE:  
> !!smut warning!! if you aren't into that, don't bother reading, it doesn't really advance the plot at all so you can just wait for the next chapter and things will pick up again.
> 
> okay. so. this happened. i wrote it impulsively at 3am and i refuse to read it over. just be warned that it is TERRIBLE and i want to die every time i think about the fact that this is actually being posted. yes, i understand that it's fairly sparse(?) and not the smoothest but i wrote it under the impression that i would be returning and editing the hell out of it, unfortunuately i won't be doing that, so you have to deal with the roughest of rough drafts. 
> 
> this is a whole new level of awkward for me, a sixteen year old girl, Certified™ Asexual, who's never even held hands with a dude and can only read smut after midnight. i hate myself.
> 
> in other news: wow two chapters in one day??

Somehow they’ve found their way back to the apartment. Lance drifts about the rooms, taking in evidence of the brothers’ lives, while Keith fumbles with his phone. 

It rings a few times before Shiro answers. “Hey, what’s up?” 

“Uh, hi. Could you maybe do me a small favour and stay with Hunk tonight? Or something. Just...not come home?” 

There is a pause at the other end of the line. “So I’m guessing Lance is happening?” Keith grimaces as he imagines the grin on Shiro’s face and knows he’s going to be hearing about it. “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow. Be safe!” He catches the amused edge of Shiro’s words and silently curses his brother as he ends the call, tossing his phone aside. 

Lance pokes his head in from the bedroom. “We’re good?” 

“We’re good,” Keith confirms, stepping timidly in Lance’s direction. The boy retreats into the shadowy room and Keith follows him slowly, eyes glancing at the window and finding that it’s started to rain heavily, overcasting the sunset with swollen grey clouds. 

Lance pushes the door closed behind Keith, pulling him in by the waist. “You’re not going to back out on me now?” 

He shakes his head, not trusting his words, and tries to focus on the way that Lance’s cold eyes seem to reflect the dim light. His human qualities seem to have fallen away. Keith doesn’t want to lose them. He leans in first. 

Although Keith makes the initial move, it only takes a second for Lance to take control. He is forward in a compassionate sort of way that makes Keith’s stomach flutter, especially when the boy sweeps him into his strong arms and moves them towards the bed. Once his back touches the blankets, Keith melts into the kiss with newfound encouragement, tugging on Lance’s lip gently. Lance grunts and pulls away to tug his shirt over his head, tossing it aside while Keith takes in this new piece of his body. 

Unfair, his muscles are so perfectly sculpted and tanned.

Keith tenses as Lance’s hands skim under the hem of his own shirt, suddenly self-conscious about showing off his body, which is definitely not on the same level as Lance’s. He might be fit, but not god tier.

As if sensing his insecurities, Lance captures Keith’s attention with a sloppy kiss again, and once Keith’s hands are exploring his torso, Lance works the shirt over his head before the boy can hesitate again. They both turn their attention to their jeans and boxers.

“If you’re a god, can’t you just, you know,” Keith snaps his fingers, smiling teasingly as Lance struggles with his belt. 

“Shut up.”

“Make me?” 

Lance silences him by pressing his lips against the boy’s collarbone, teeth gently grazing the pale skin and causing Keith to nearly bite his own tongue. He spends some time nibbling and running his tongue along that spot before sliding lower, touching kisses along the way. Keith leans his head back and lets Lance have his way. 

“You’ve done this before,” Lance murmurs, smiling dazedly as Keith reaches down and runs his fingers through Lance’s hair. He hums in agreement. The god returns to Keith’s face. “This is going to get me in a lot of trouble.” 

“Then we better do it fast,” Keith growls. He’s impatient already.

Lance smirks and retreats to Keith’s hips, gliding the tip of his tongue over Keith’s exposed cock. The black-haired boy gasps as Lance wastes no time taking it into his mouth, hands twisting around the shaft while he moved around the head with his mouth. Watching Keith’s fingers curl into the sheets adds to Lance’s half-hard boner. 

Keith groans lowly as Lance sucks him off, lips clearly experienced. It doesn’t take long before Keith is panting and bordering on the edge. 

“Lance,” he warns in a breathy tone. 

The boy responds quickly, licking the tip of his cock one last time before straightening up. Even he is starting to get frustrated with the slow pace, listening to the airy sighs from Keith’s throat. Keith points wordlessly to the dresser where Lance opens the first drawer to find lube.

Keith’s eyes are heavily lidded as Lance preps himself, about to lather his fingers when Keith grips his wrist tightly. “Don’t. Just...just go.”

He doesn’t think twice before adjusting Keith’s legs and lining up with his entrance. 

Both of them stifle a whine as Lance slides in. Keith wonders if he’s made a mistake while being so impatient, because, shit, it hurts. A lot. He tenses even though he knows that’s going to make it worse. 

Lance leans over him, pressing his lips against Keith’s neck and sucking roughly. The sensation distractions him from some of the pain. As they mess around with each other’s mouths again, Keith rolls his hips cautiously on Lance’s dick to get himself accustomed. 

“Okay,” he says softly, and Lance begins to slowly move himself inside of Keith. 

He tries to watch Lance’s face, the boy’s icy gaze surprisingly heated while he grunts and thrusts deeper. As the pace picks up, Keith’s back arches and he drops his head onto the mattress. A loud moan escapes him, tinged with Lance’s name, and he feels his ears burning until Lance sighs deeply.

“You’re so hot,” he murmurs. 

Keith gives a breathy chuckle. It’s cut off short as Lance adjusts his angle and rubs against Keith in a way that makes his toes curl, inhaling sharply. He closes his eyes and digs his fingernails into Lance’s muscular back as he continues to thrust against that spot.

Lance whines, “Keith, I’m g-going to-”

He moans in response. 

They ride out their highs together, panting in a tangle of arms and legs. When Lance pulls out, tanned skin flush, Keith loops his hands around his neck and pulls him down for a mouthy kiss, tongues pressing against each other experimentally. Finally Lance breaks away. 

“Okay, that’s enough for one night,” he pecks Keith on the cheek and moves to clean up, Keith following him after taking a moment to gather himself.

Once they are both showered and the evidence of their night is more or less hidden, they slide into bed together and Keith falls asleep in long, snug arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm disappointed in myself tbh.
> 
> next chapter will be up after the weekend! probably Tuesday. assuming i don't curl up and die right now.


	9. CHAPTER 09

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so,, the previous chapter was about the halfway mark. i'm seriously amazed that so many people are enjoying this??? thank you guys so much :) 
> 
> things sort of happen fairly quickly after this chapter (at least, that's what it seemed like when i was writing). next update i am aiming for the end of this week. there are a handful of chapters coming up that i would prefer to post in conjunction, but with any luck i have enough time to edit them and it shouldn't take me any longer than usual. 
> 
> if you skipped the smut in the last chapter, you didn't miss anything, and the plot resumes here. sorry if this chapter seems a bit rushed, it kind of feels like a lot to happen in a short amount of words.

Lance is still there when he wakes up late morning. It fills Keith with relief as he turns over to find strong, sun-kissed shoulder blades and a soft head of brown hair. He touches his fingertips to some of the dark freckles and marks on Lance’s back. The boy grunts, twisting around to face him with sleepy eyes. 

 

“Didn’t know that gods needed sleep,” Keith mutters through a yawn.

 

“Gods can do whatever they want,” Lance huffs. He shifts closer to Keith, pressing their foreheads together and teasing his lips by skimming over them with his own. “Keith?” 

 

“Hmm?” 

 

“Are you happy?”

 

Keith sighs, “very,” and rolls onto his back to stare at the ceiling. Is he supposed to be at work today? “Come on, we should get up.” 

 

Although Lance seems reluctant to leave the warm bed, he takes less to convince once Keith leaves him and wanders around the room in search of clothes. He throws Lance’s t-shirt and jeans onto the bed, and finds a fresh outfit for himself. Lance shuffles like a zombie to the bathroom and comes out wearing a grey long sleeve and jeans ripped at the knee, which had definitely not been in the room before. He gives a lazy shrug when Keith raises an eyebrow. Gods.

 

When they are dressed, Keith makes himself toast while Lance entertains himself by poking around the pictures that Shiro insisted on keeping out. 

 

“I’m really digging these chubby cheeks you had as a toddler,” he chuckles, peering across the room at the young man that had grown up slender. Judging by the look on his face, he’s picturing how Keith looked last night, without clothes, pale skin glowing in the poor lighting.

 

The two of them walk side by side to Voltron, Keith leaving his bike behind for once. Shiro greets them from behind the desk. 

 

“I didn’t think you’d make it in today,” he laughs. “You’re ten minutes early.”

 

Lance leaves Keith to his work for the day, and he’s thankful. Simply having him on his mind for his entire shift is hard enough, let alone being distracted by the boy’s antics in person. It does, however, mean that he is subject to Shiro’s brotherly interrogation as soon as Lance walks out the door.

 

**▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬**

 

Keith expects Lance to find him once his shift is over, but there is no sign of the boy. He sits through a second day without word before he resolves to find Lance himself. 

 

His thoughts are occupied by the words that Lance had half-heartedly mumbled during their night together.  _ This is going to get me in a lot of trouble _ . 

 

He doesn’t have to explain himself when he turns down Shiro’s offer for a ride at the end of his shift, simply taking Red and gliding out of the parking lot without much of a plan or destination. There are only two places where Keith knows he can find the god, although he worries that Lance won’t be in either. A misty, cold drizzle sets him on edge as he pedals for the beach. 

 

Turns out that Lance  _ is _ on the beach, but he’s not alone. He faces the only other two people with rigid shoulders. Keith gently leans Red against the guardrail and wonders if he should really be invading.

 

From across the sand, he can hear unusual authority in Lance’s tone. “How did you find me?” 

 

The pair look at each other. They’re nearly identical, with pointed faces and wide round glasses over their eyes. Both have coppery, fluffy hair that sticks out in unruly directions. The taller of the two is the one who answers Lance, with a young male voice. “It wasn’t that hard to track you down while you were doing…” he risks a glance over the boy’s shoulder and makes eye contact with Keith. “...Stuff.” Lance doesn’t seem to notice and simply folds his arms over his chest. 

 

Keith feels a chill run over him as soon as those golden eyes find his face. 

 

“Right. I was, uh, distracted,” Lance mutters.

 

The smaller one interjects, in a tone more feminine. “Does Allura know?” 

 

“She won’t find out,” he growls sharply, suddenly ruffled. The two of them seem to shrink as Lance straightens his posture once more. “Why did you come here?” 

 

Tall says, “maybe we should tell both of you.” 

 

Lance tenses. He looks over his shoulder, and finally notices Keith. His blue eyes seem to lose their chill and swell with battling emotions, so that Keith feels as though he’s staring into the churning ocean itself. The rain has caused Lance’s hair to curl at the ends. The entire image seems desolate. Is he...sad? 

 

“You need to be careful,” Tall catches the boy’s attention, “letting your guard down like that is risky. It won’t take Lotor much longer to find you than it took us.” 

 

“Have you finally picked your side, then?” Lance shoots back. 

 

“No. We came to warn you as your friends, Lance.” 

 

Small gives Keith a onceover. “You realize what you’ve done?” 

 

“Yeah,” Lance’s answer is low and defeated. 

 

“Then we’ve done all we came to do.” 

 

The pair nods in unison and brush past the others, matching their strides as they walk towards the road. Their movements are so light that it appears they almost float over the pavement. Keith blinks, and they are gone. 

 

He turns to Lance, gripping the boy’s hand tight and raising it to his chest. “Who were they?” The tremor won’t leave his voice.

 

Lance’s head is hanging. “Matt and Pidge. Gods of deceit, trickery and the like.” His eyes stay frozen to the place where the other gods had melted into the air. “They are my friends, but don’t ever trust them. Gods like that will play any cards that suit their interests.”

 

Keith steps closer, fingers ghosting over Lance’s shirt as he recalls the golden skin and muscles that roll like waves under it. He can sense the apprehension coming from the other boy. 

 

Lance takes both of Keith’s wrists and gently pushes his hands away. “Keith, I...I’ve made a mistake.” 

 

The words sting as if Lance had shouted them, slapped them across his face, instead of whispering them painfully. 

 

“I shouldn’t have gotten so close to you.” 

 

His eyes brim with tears that he refuses to shed in front of Lance. Keith squeaks out, “I’m sorry you feel that way,” voice wavering as he starts to back away. Lance clings to his hands longer than acceptable. It seems to physically hurt the god as he drops them, but he still does it. He lets go.

 

Keith is supposed to keep the ocean at a distance - he’s forgotten his one rule, and he thinks he’s going to pay for it. 


	10. CHAPTER 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you guys so much for the response i have gotten for this fic, seriously i love updating and it makes my day when someone comments!!
> 
> next chapter is fairly short and won't take me long to edit, probably will be up after the weekend, although the others after that may take me a bit longer (not anything crazy though, so don't worry) and sorry to leave you hanging ;)

Shiro is quick to notice that his brother is on edge, but he doesn’t press it, instead choosing to tiptoe around the situation and let Keith handle it himself. Keith is relieved. It’s not like Shiro will actually understand, anyways.

 

He retreats to bed early that night, heart still aching with the rejection. After Keith had placed his trust in Lance, he hadn’t been expecting for it to end so quickly, and without warning. The entire situation is made worse by the constant image in the back of his mind, of Lance’s distressed blue eyes as if letting go of Keith is the most heart-wrenching thing he’s ever done.

 

For hours, he rolls over and over in the bed, trying not to think about having Lance lying beside him, about the boy’s warm body and gentle hands and plump lips. He falls asleep with his hands curled into the sheets as if it was Lance’s shirt and clinging for all he’s worth.

 

An overcast sky and soft rainfall has been twisted into a fierce thunderstorm sometime during the time in which Keith slept. He wakes up in a cold sweat, with the last fading pieces of a nightmare thrashing around in his head. Lightning illuminates the room and he buries his face in the pillow, stifling the urge to cry out.

 

Keith nearly trips as he climbs out of bed, stumbling his way into the hallway and towards Shiro’s room. His head is spinning. Is he going to vomit? It feels like it. Shit, he hopes he won’t vomit. Or pass out. He’s feeling strangely light-headed and has lean on the wall to balance himself.

 

There is a flash that seems to go on longer than normal, followed by a crack of thunder that shakes the building. Keith does cry out this time, hands grabbing blindly at his ears and the panic is so overwhelming that he thinks it might actually kill him. “Shiro!” He yells, closing his eyes tight. His brother will hear him. He will, and then he’ll come running and Keith will be okay.

 

When there is no one rushing to comfort him, Keith is forced to gather himself and stagger the last few steps to Shiro’s room. He fumbles with the doorknob, head no longer tipsy but filled with a splitting pain that Keith doesn’t remember normally experiencing during his episodes. In fact, all of this seems unusually extreme.

 

Keith practically falls into the bedroom, pausing with uncertainty when he finds the bed empty. Shiro’s not sleeping. If he’s not sleeping, he should have heard Keith yelling for him. He should have noticed the storm and already been prepared to deal with an episode.

 

Chewing his lip to the point where it starts to bleed, Keith shuffles back to his own room. The shakiness is starting to subside almost faster than it first struck him. He digs around in the bed until he finds his phone.

 

**to: shiro**    _where are you???_

 

After a drawn out period of no response, he tries again.

 

**to: shiro** _shiro_

 

**to: shiro**    _answer me please?_

 

Keith notices a muffled buzzing from the other room. He runs to the kitchen, mumbling, “no no no,” as he spots Shiro’s phone on the counter, lit up with Keith’s messages. “No!” He rakes his fingers through his hair. This is not his brother. Something is wrong. Seriously wrong. Keith looks around, desperate, and bolts for the door.

 

He nearly loses his balance on Red more than once, pedals occasionally spinning out of control as he rides. His legs are aching. Dressed in only a loose t-shirt and sweatpants, the rain beats down on him mercilessly. The storm still howls around him. Keith hardly notices. He just focuses on going faster, getting there sooner. The bike is thrown aside and Keith launches himself over the guardrail. He slides on wet sand as he sprints for the ocean.

 

Keith doesn’t stop at the water’s edge. Every bone in his body screams for him to abort mission, but Keith splashes into the tide without slowing down. He runs until he’s up to his knees and stumbling and still continues to wade deeper.

 

“Lance!” He screams, voice being torn to shreds by the wind. It whips Keith’s hair around his face. “Lance, please!”

 

Maybe it’s too late. The god has already abandoned him.

 

Keith, with the ocean heaving at his hips, loses his balance and topples forward. The salt burns his throat and eyes as his head goes under and he gulps in, taken by surprise. Shaken by the current, Keith manages to find his feet and coughs out the water. His hair hangs limply on his head, dripping down his face. Each waves smacks him hard.

 

Still wheezing, he screams, “ _Lance!_ ”

 

He forgets that he can’t swim, or maybe it doesn’t matter either way. By now the waves are almost over his head. Keith presses forward and then suddenly there is someone wrapping their arms around his torso, pulling him back. He thrashes, efforts dulled by the water dragging his limbs. A mouthful sends him spluttering again.

 

Once his feet strike ground, Keith kicks out and stumbles through the last stretch of water onto the shore. He can’t stop shivering and the nausea is back at full force, keeling him over on the sand as he coughs and retches uselessly.

 

Finally it’s over. He has no more energy, collapsing onto his side in the sand and starting to sob. Somebody hunches over him, covering his body with theirs. Their whisper tickles his ear, a distant  _'y_ _ou’re safe'_.

 

**▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬**

 

Somehow Keith made it back to the apartment, onto the couch, under a thick blanket. The storm has died out to a cold downpour. His throat is raw. Hair is brushed away from his forehead by a cautious hand. The touch is fleeting, and Keith automatically leans towards it.

 

He remembers. His eyes snap open, a name on his lips.

 

“Shiro?”

 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” says Not-Shiro, from where they sit on the couch beside Keith. He props himself up on his elbows and takes in Lance’s face, once flawless and now strained with worry.

 

“You came-”

 

“Of course I did,” he murmurs, taking the words from Keith’s mouth, “I couldn’t leave you like that. Not now.”

 

“My brother...”

 

Lance nods. He rubs Keith’s arm with cold fingers, and Keith is unnerved by the god’s watery gaze. “I’ll get him back, Keith, I promise. I _will_ see this through.”

 

Keith feels drained. Leaning back on the couch, he stares dumbly at the ceiling and tries to make sense. Shiro is gone. Lance came back for him.

 

“I knew he was here. I could feel it,” the boy closes his blue eyes, “you were so scared. I’m sorry.”

 

“Who?”

 

When Lance opens his eyes and faces Keith, they are stony cold. “Lotor. God of nightmares and bad things.”


	11. CHAPTER 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so that solar eclipse that's happening in North America right now is pretty anticlimatic, idk..
> 
> this chapter is fairly simple. there will be four more chapters after this, but i am going to post them in only two updates, probably the end of this week and mid-week after that. school is starting up for me soon so i would like to have this completed before then!
> 
> as always thank you SO MUCH for every hit/kudos/comment. since this is my first full-length work i've ever put up...i was a little bit unsure about how people would like my writing, but y'all have been so nice :))

Keith jogs back towards Lance through a misty drizzle, one that hasn’t let up in the hours after the storm died out. He is half-expecting to find the god vanished once more, heart steadying with relief as he sees Lance’s tall figure leaning against the corner of the building, chin turned up towards the grey sky. His brown hair is fluffy from the rain, eyes as miserable as the weather when he looks towards Keith.

 

“Everything go smoothly?” He asks, voice monotone.

 

Keith nods, “Hunk and Shay said they have no problem looking after the store. They...they wanted me to tell Shiro to get better soon.” He grimaces, feeling another surge of guilt for lying about the situation. It’s for the best. They don’t need to be anymore worried than they already are. If Shiro doesn’t come back, though...Keith shakes himself. He doesn’t want to think like that. 

 

Lance reaches out and takes Keith’s pale hand in his tanned one, rubbing his thumb comforting over the skin. “I will bring him home, Keith.”

 

“Why do you keep saying that?” 

 

The god pauses, looking puzzled.

 

“You make it sound like you’re going to do everything. I-I want to help,” Keith stares at his feet. He feels numb, expended, but still standing. He’s fairly certain that the only reason why he hasn’t keeled over from the sleepless, stressful night is because Lance forced him to unwillingly go through the motions in the morning, after sitting up with him until dawn. A warm shower, dressing in fresh clothes that weren’t crusted with ocean salt, a weak attempt to eat a dry slice of toast. It had recovered some of Keith’s morale.

 

Lance’s voice is gentle when he answers, yet still firm, getting his point across. “I’ve put you in enough danger as it is. This is my fault, anyways.”

 

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

 

He takes a deep breath, looking away before Keith can search his eyes. The sliver of pain that has been quietly piercing Keith’s heart all this time is suddenly amplified once more. Rain begins to pick up, drenching them both in a cold shower as wind beats their clothing. It isn’t just a storm anymore. It’s a being. Emotions are bared in those raindrops. He can’t decide if that is more or less frightening than before. 

 

Physically bracing himself against the wall once more, Lance begins to talk in a low voice. He won’t lift his eyes from the pavement. “A few months ago I took up a job. Very risky, but it needed to be done. There was a god - Zarkon - who turned against us. After he killed Allura’s father...she asked me to destroy him.” 

 

Keith can feel the energy starting to roll from Lance’s body in waves, accented by a low growl from the clouds overhead. The hairs on his arms stand on end. He wants to reach out and soothe the turmoil inside of Lance, but he’s afraid. 

 

“I did it. Lotor has been hunting me down for his revenge. I’ve been hiding here ever since and I was supposed to be lying low, but...” Lance smiles sadly to himself, “I saw you, and I couldn’t resist. It was stupid. I convinced myself that everything would be fine. I’m sorry. It...was my mistake.” 

 

He isn’t sure when the tears started, tracking lines down his cheeks, but he hopes that Lance will mistake them for raindrops. Maybe the red eyes give him away. The shaking hands. The quivering lip. 

 

Lance moves so his face is only a few centimeters away. “Listen to me, Keith. I don’t regret it, not any of it. You’re the best mistake I’ve made in a long, long,  _ long _ time - and believe me, I’ve made a lot of them. I’m just sorry that you have to deal with…the consequences.”

 

There isn’t much that he can say in response to that, so he retakes Lance’s hand and gives it a squeeze. They both understand that time is already wasting. Lance leads the way to the beach, leaving Keith to stand on the road, leaning against the rail as the god waits at the edge of the water, turning to give him a classic smirk. It lacks the usual humour that Keith had come to expect. The prick in his heart burrows itself deeper. Is he losing Lance, or finally seeing his true self? 

 

When the tiny god arrives, her glasses are flecked with raindrops. She grumbles, removing them to wipe the water on her clothing, giving Lance a glare. He seems as surprised as Keith is to only see half of the pair. They had seemed almost like one being on the first encounter - it hadn’t even occurred to him that they could be separated. 

 

“Where’s Matt?” Lance asks, voice turning sharp as his defences go up. Keith knows that Lance is going back on his own advice by contacting these wily deities. There is no guarantee that they won’t double-cross if a better opportunity arises. It has him gritting his teeth, realizing the desperation that Lance is struggling to mask under a cool expression. Maybe the gods of trickery will target that weakness. 

 

The smaller one seems more on edge than usual without her counterpart. “I have no fucking idea,” she jabs, “but I sure hope you’re going to figure this out.” 

 

“Lotor…” he says. There is an icy edge to the name and Keith shivers, feeling a cool gust of wind over his damp clothing. 

 

Pidge’s face turns sour as well. “Yeah. Same as that one’s brother,” she jerks her head to where Keith is standing. “Allura won’t be happy.”

 

Allura. Keith wonders what she is like. From the way that Lance talks about her, it sounds as though he is fond of the girl, almost like siblings. Occasionally he gets a rueful look in his eyes when her name is brought up, guilty about one thing or another.

 

_ He bought her that ring. Said it was insurance.  _ Which means that he was expecting to be caught right from the start, and made an attempt to lessen the blow. 

 

“I’m going to fix this,” Lance says rigidly, “but I need some help.” 


	12. CHAPTER 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this update was a couple days later than normal, but there's two chapters so i guess that makes up for it. next update will be the last one! 
> 
> ummmm thank you for 200 kudos??? wow??? i love you all so much
> 
> i just had two of the longest work days of my life and i am Ready for Death

Keith pouts as he looks out the rain-streaked window. “I don’t like this.” 

 

“Tell me about it,” Pidge grumbles from the couch, “I was  _ not  _ expecting to get stuck on babysitting duty while that dumbass tries to save the world.” 

 

He gives one last glance at the grey sky, trying to judge the situation based on the weather. Lance had once explained to him that, being the god of water, clear days meant calmness, soft happiness, while rain and storms indicated something more severe, almost like a dial being cranked up. Keith is anxiously awaiting a flash of lightning or crack of thunder to suggest that the situation has taken a turn for worse. 

 

Moving to sit beside Pidge, he ignores the narrowed eyes she gives through her glasses and meekly says, “I’m sorry about your friend.” 

 

“Brother,” she corrects, “and yours also. Matt and I don’t usually take sides when the big kids have their petty arguments, but I think Lotor is making a serious mistake this time.”

 

“I wish we could do something.”

 

Pidge raises an eyebrow. “Lance doesn’t want you to get involved. I told him that I would look after you.”

 

“Yeah, yeah-”

 

“But, you know, I am the god of lies and all that. So he really should know better,” she easily shrugs. Keith tenses beside her on the couch, eyes wide as his brain locks onto those words. He had pretty much given up after Lance recruited Pidge to monitor Keith’s apartment, because how could he expect to get around a god, but here is the option to help. Keith can’t sit around being scared anymore. He owes it to Shiro - and Lance - to do more. 

 

His mind refuses to stop focusing on Lance’s farewell. It had sounded so final, as if the god believed that was the last time he was ever going to lay eyes on Keith. 

 

Those eyes. They had been so remorseful, as deep and blue as the ocean he loved, aching with  _ something _ . 

  
  


_ “Keith,” he says. There is a catch in his voice. “You’ll be safe, okay? I’m going to get Shiro back for you.” Sighing, Lance places his hand at the back of Keith’s neck, gaze running over his face with the same warmth that it had on that night they spent together. He leans forward and presses a fleeting kiss onto the boy’s lips. Keith melts into it, cold and lost when Lance pulls away all too soon.  _

 

_ Keith wants him to stay. He wants to go with him. Hell, he doesn’t know what he wants. _

 

_ He needs Lance. _

 

_ “See you soon, pretty boy.”  _

  
  


Pidge stretches her short arms over her head. Her mouth parts in an exaggerated yawn. “Or we could nap. I haven’t had a good nap in, like, a century. Whoever spread the rumour that gods don’t sleep, I’d really like to kick their ass.”

  
  


_ “Didn’t know that gods needed sleep,” Keith mutters through a yawn. _

 

_ “Gods can do whatever they want,” Lance huffs. He shifts closer to Keith, pressing their foreheads together and teasing his lips by skimming over them with his own. “Keith?”  _

 

_ “Hmm?”  _

 

_ “Are you happy?” _

  
  


He’s moved from the couch, pacing the room once more. The pain in his chest is starting to spread elsewhere, a throb behind his eyes, a twist in his stomach. It’s starting to become too much to bear. 

  
  


_ “You don’t like the water, do you?” Lance sighs softly, breaking the silence. “It scares you.”  _

 

_ It doesn’t scare me. You don’t scare me. _

 

_ Lance, I love- _

  
  


The apartment rattles with the familiar roar of thunder. Although it sets Keith’s breathing to an erratic rhythm, he swallows the panic and refuses to be overwhelmed because it’s just Lance, it’s just Lance and he’s in trouble.

 

“Pidge, we have to go,” Keith spins around to face the small god.

 

“I was waiting for you to say that,” Pidge says with a smirk. “You might want to have a seat.”

 

He does as she says, nervously placing his hands in his lap and trying not to wince away when she stands in front of him. Keith closes his eyes, seeing Lance behind one eyelid and Shiro behind the other, and when he looks around again, the room is different.

 

It’s an immense change from the small - compact, Shiro says - apartment. Tall, curved ceilings, sleek blue lights and screens that leave the place looking like some kind of futuristic control room. Huge glass windows show an empty black expanse. Nothing.

 

“Are we...in space?” Keith mumbles the first thought that comes to mind. Pidge chuckles from beside him.

 

“Sort of. Welcome to Altea, realm of the gods. More specifically, Allura’s castle,” judging by her tone, she finds his awestruck reaction to be fairly amusing. “Watch your step. Your legs are probably going to feel like jelly for a few minutes.” 

 

Sure enough, he wobbles a bit as he follows Pidge into the room. As he looks behind him, Keith realizes they were standing at the mouth of a long, shadowy hallway that stretches further into the breathtaking castle. 

 

His attention is taken suddenly by a young woman who stands in the center, eyes focused on holographic screens in front of her. They flicker and disappear quickly when she turns around, as if sensing the visitors. Her impressive silver hair swishes around her shoulders. She fixes Keith with calculating blue eyes, peculiar pink marks on her cheeks to contrast dark skin. 

 

“Keith Kogane,” she says smoothly, “we have not met.” The lady - goddess? - steps down from her pedestal and nods politely. She adjusts her attention to the deity beside Keith. 

 

Pidge straightens up. “Hey, Allura, long time no see.”

 

“It has been a while, hasn’t it?” There is a new warmth in her voice as she addresses the smaller girl. “Not that I have anything against it - but why have you come? You and Matt don’t normally like to get involved, although I suppose the situation may be dire...” 

 

“Lance has gone after Lotor.” 

 

Allura’s face hardens. She lifts her shoulders, turning sharply on her heels and marching across the room to sweep her graceful fingers over one of the screens. “Lance,” her accent stretches the name oddly, “why must he always be getting himself into trouble? I told him to come to me first.” 

 

“We have to help him,” Keith interjects, and the words come out strained.

 

Allura nods. “Of course. Sit back and prepare yourselves for the ride.”


	13. CHAPTER 13

Keith finds himself wondering, more than once, if maybe all of this is a dream. It certainly seems unreal as he walks down a narrow, unlit hallway with a short girl named Pidge - who also happens to be a god. Then again, having Allura essentially slingshot them across the universe is probably scrambling his brain a little bit. Keith feels like he’s not quite there.

 

Although the place is mostly cast in shadows, there is a weird purple glow that seems to ooze from the walls. It’s enough for him to see the outline of Pidge trotting a few steps ahead of him. Keith follows her closely. He has given up trying to wrap his head around the fact that, probably less than twenty minutes ago, they were sitting on his apartment couch. 

 

Ahead of them lies an intersection in the dark hallway. Pidge pauses as a figure comes around the corner, raising her weapon in preparation. It’s a strange, almost snake-like grappling hook that glows with green electricity and retracts into a triangular blade. Keith doesn’t understand it. He just knows that he doesn’t want to be on the receiving end of it’s bite. 

 

She lowers it as Allura reveals herself, her waves of hair somehow tucked into a neat bun at the back of her head. Holding a tall staff in one hand, eyes glimmering, just the sight of the goddess sends shivers up Keith’s spine.

 

“Here,” she hisses, gesturing her staff in the direction she had come from. “There is something you must see.” 

 

The three of them creep towards a large, arched doorway. Keith’s eyes jump around as he tries to make sense of the muddled shadows that move about the room on the other side. There is a table in the middle, a body lying on their back that catches Keith’s attention.

 

_ Shiro _ . 

 

“Allura,” he whispers. She nods.

 

An understanding flows between the two gods beside Keith. They burst forward in unison, Allura drawing herself up with an assertive, “ _ druids _ .” 

 

The shapes uncurl to face them, turning into thin, wispy creatures resembling the human body. A black cloak smothers their body, a hooked mask protruding from it’s depths where there should have been a face. One gives a low growl and raises a hand curled like talons as it charges Allura. Their first strikes intercept in jerky tendrils of lightning, sparking and hissing as they dance around each other. 

 

While Allura fights, Pidge chooses her own battles, targeting other shadows as they fade and reappear. They are fast, but she is faster, anticipating where to aim. Her weapon crackles with each enemy that it takes down.

 

Keith bolts for the table, ducking under a stray coil of the druids’ purple light. His brother’s eyes are closed, but his chest is moving, so Keith focuses on the metal cuffs that hold Shiro’s limbs in place. He reaches out to the first one when he freezes suddenly. His arm. It’s gone.

 

In it’s place is a silver and black prosthetic, so seamless and perfectly shaped that it seems like just another natural extension of his body, except it is cold, smooth like metal under Keith’s fingertips. His eyes move to Shiro’s face, mouth opening in a silent  _ oh  _ as he sees a bloodied mark across the bridge of his brother’s nose, and the white tuft of hair hanging limply over his forehead. 

 

_ What have they done to you?  _

 

Shiro grunts, head rolling to the side. He’s starting to come around. Keith almost wants him to stay out, to keep him from witnessing whatever is about to happen. It’s already too late, however, as Shiro coughs, “Keith?” 

 

He reaches out and touches his brother’s arm - the real one - with care, wanting to say everything at once. 

 

“Out of the way!” He’s startled aside by the demand from Pidge, who raises her blade and cleanly hacks away at the cuffs until Shiro is freed. Keith looks around to see Allura straightening up, brushing herself off and stepping over a slumped body at her feet. Helping Pidge haul Shiro to his feet is her familiar duplicate. 

 

“Howdy, Keith,” Matt says without cheer, pulling one of Shiro’s arms over his shoulders. He, like Shiro, is dressed in a tight black outfit with a loose, shapeless shirt over his upper body.

 

His brother winces, shoulders curling in with pain. Keith quickly takes his other side to help support him. “We’re going to get out of here,” he assures Shiro. 

 

“Not yet. We need to find Lance,” Pidge reminds him. Shiro isn’t the only one that he came here to help. 

 

The smallest of the gods sneaks ahead while the others are slowed down slightly by the half-conscious man they’re lugging behind them. Shiro’s feet drag weakly on the ground as he tries to find his balance. Keith hates the way that Shiro’s head hangs laden with exhaustion, skin pale and grey in comparison to the scarlet blood rolling down his face like tears. 

 

They catch up to Pidge, finding her crouched at a corner while she watches the scene in grim silence. Matt helps Keith sit his brother up against the wall, before they both creep up behind Pidge. She jerks her chin towards a room almost as impressive as Allura’s castle. 

 

It’s not the decor that Keith focuses on, though. A lithe form with sharp golden eyes stalks across the room. He twirls a long, slender blade in one hand, face alight with something like sick amusement. Watching makes Keith choke on unexplained panic that suddenly blooms in his chest, but he can’t look away. He feels a hand gripping his shoulder and glances up to see Allura with a scowl on her lips and fire in her eyes.

 

She isn’t looking at Lotor. Keith follows her gaze to the other side of the room, a scrawny figure laying on their side. His breath catches in his throat. Are they too late?

 

Lance struggles to right himself, propping himself up on his hands, but it looks as though his body won’t cooperate. 

 

Before Lotor can reach him on the ground, however, he is interrupted by what Keith recognizes to be another druid, only instead of a mask the witch-like lady glares with yellow eyes, a pointed nose and chin. Her glowing gaze feels like it lands directly on Keith. He is swept up as the gods around him stand to fight, weapons poised at their sides when they realize they are no longer hidden. Allura’s fingers curl around her staff. 

 

He has nothing to defend himself, but he squares his shoulders anyways. 

 

Lance is sitting up now. He stares at the group, his face a mess of emotions that can’t be interpreted, though there is no need for understanding as his mouth moves to form Keith’s name. 


	14. CHAPTER 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINAL UPDATE!! it's basically a chapter and a half. i'll say more at the end of the fic!

Allura addresses the room directly, while the other two gods hang back with their eagle eyes alert for movement. Her voice is frozen over and Keith understands why Lance is intimidated by her. 

 

“Lotor, Haggar. Think about what you’re doing-”

 

The god smirks. “Save your breath, ‘Lura.” His eyes slide towards Lance. “Your boy over here already gave me the whole speech. We’re...just finishing up, actually. How rude of you all to interrupt.” 

 

Lotor is at Lance’s side in a couple long strides, his blade hovering dangerously close to the boy’s throat. 

 

Keith swallows painfully. While the other gods appear to him as timeless, ageless, Lance possesses a youthful quality that makes him seem as though he is still growing up, that made him nothing more than just another young man in Keith’s mind. Boys aren’t supposed to fight wars meant for gods.

 

In a flash of movement, Lance is on his feet, deflecting the weapon away from himself. It hadn’t been obvious before, but now it can be seen that he wields a staff similar to Allura’s. He assumes a defensive stance just in time to block a lunge from Lotor. Keith watches his precise movements and wonders if maybe Lance does belong in this war. 

 

“Lance!” It’s not Keith who calls his name, but Allura, her own staff flickering with pink lightning. 

 

She is cut off by the druid, the one that she had referred to as Haggar. Their magic battles with flashes of colour. Keith’s eyes leap frantically between Allura and Lance as they parry and strike against individual enemies. Lance somersaults, struggling to keep up with the god who relentlessly takes advantage of each opening as they are revealed. A sharp gasp draws Keith’s attention as Allura staggers and falls to one knee, grabbing her side. He tenses, but is held back by a hand on his chest.

 

“No worries, we can handle this,” Matt says, giving Keith a shove backwards. He nods to Pidge and they dart towards Haggar without warning. 

 

There is a pained cry from across the room as Lotor sends Lance tumbling to the ground, his staff clattering to the ground. This time there is no one to stop Keith before he calls the god’s name and sprints towards him. Lance rolls over, eyes widening as he sees Keith barrelling to his side.

 

Lotor sees him also, blocking the boy with a smooth sweep of his arm. He grabs Keith by the collar before he can even reach Lance, who spits blood onto the ground and lunges for his staff. 

 

Across the room, Haggar falls into a shadowy pile on the ground, Pidge standing behind her and casually waving her weapon, which smokes concerningly. She highfives Matt. 

 

Keith’s eyes dart back to the venomous ones in front of him. It feels like claws are digging into his throat, dangling him tauntingly above the ground. He sort of expects Lotor to shake him like a predator shaking a half-dead carcass. Keith stares at his face and finds himself surprisingly calm. Maybe he is too stunned to be afraid.

 

“Put. Him. Down.” 

 

It’s the first time that he hears Lance say anything. The voice is unsettling and very not-Lance. Keith looks over Lotor’s shoulder to see him with hands curled tightly around his staff, which snaps and pops with blue electricity as if it’s going to overheat. The other three stand behind him with their own weapons raised. He stares at Lance’s eyes and realizes exactly why Lance is the god of the ocean. 

 

He’s immense. Unpredictable. Dangerous. Beautiful.

 

Keith feels the hand flex around his jugular, before he is dropped to the ground. The two gods collide with each other in a fierce storm. He scrambles away from the flurry of light and clashing of weapons. Pidge’s grappling hook sizzles as it digs into its target. As Lance is knocked aside, Allura darts in to cover him while he regains his footing. They work seamlessly. All Keith can do is watch.

 

Although he keeps up with them at first, defending himself on four fronts is beginning to drain Lotor’s energy. He is slower to block Allura’s strikes and dodge Pidge’s attacks. When he stumbles, Lance takes the opening without hesitating. He drives his staff directly into the god’s chest with a war cry.

 

There is a blinding flash and Keith hides his face. When the glow recedes, he blinks to clear his eyes, taking in the scene before him.

 

Lotor is gone. There isn’t even a body. Allura stands tall and poised as always, her dropped staff the only indication of fatigue. Matt and Pidge are leaning on each other. And Lance...Lance is on his knees, head drooping, perfectly still.

 

Their embrace is desperate, as Keith falls onto his hands and tries not to break down in tears when he pulls Lance close to him and feels the god’s arms echoing the touch. He takes Lance’s chin and lifts it with a gentle finger, inspecting his face. 

 

“Are you okay?” The question wavers, but there is relief behind it, because he knows that  _ everything _ is okay now.

 

“Oh yeah,” Lance chuckles, “it takes a lot more to kill a god.” Keith tries not to focus on the fact that Lance had been bordering on that edge only a short while ago; if Lotor had caught him…

 

He runs his thumb over Lance’s broken lip. “Didn’t know that gods could bleed.” 

 

“This body does,” Lance groans, climbing to his feet as he uses Keith to stabilize himself. Pidge and Matt attack him as soon as he’s standing, playful jabs that remind Keith of him and Shiro.

 

Shiro. Right.

 

He leaves Lance with the other gods, finding Shiro more or less where they propped him against the wall. His brother seems decently aware and wastes no time dragging Keith into a rough hug. He can’t dam the tears this time.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he sobs, burying his face in Shiro’s shoulder. His brother strokes his hair calmly. It feels familiar, after over a decade of the same soothing gesture. 

 

“It’s okay. You’re safe. We’re safe, now, it’s okay,” Shiro whispers.

 

It’s a bit of a mess trying to get everyone to Allura’s castle. The tricky gods are reluctant to hang around now that the action is over, Shiro is still too unsteady to walk by himself, and Lance is milking his injuries for all he’s worth - he persuades Matt to carry him, which involves a protesting Lance being thrown over the other god’s shoulder. Eventually everyone is safely removed from the battlefield. 

 

Allura walks with Keith and Shiro behind the more...rambunctious of the group. (Lance is dangling over Matt’s shoulder like a ragdoll, still whining). She cracks the tiniest of smiles at their antics.

 

“You shouldn’t worry about Lance so much,” the goddess tells Keith, noting the lines on his forehead as he frowns. “Although he dug himself into quite the hole...it all worked out in the end, and that is what matters. He may not act like it, but he is much stronger than others give him credit for.” 

 

“Yeah,” he says softly, and when he looks at Lance, it is not only the god’s eyes that remind him of the sea. Everything about him is a mirror image of fierce waters.


	15. CHAPTER 15 - FINAL

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a short chapter to finish things up...please read the notes at the end!

When Keith was a kid, he used to think that he had a decent pair of sea legs.

 

It seems that all familiarity with the rolling waves has abandoned him over the years, made obvious by the way he wobbles around the deck with both hands clung tight to the railing and glaring at the water with distrust, flinching as the spray cools his face. He looks to the horizon to remind himself that the sky is blue and cloudless, and judging by the expression on Lance’s face as he holds the wheel, it won’t be storming any time soon.

 

The boat is big, and Keith doesn’t know how else to put it. He still hasn’t quite gotten over his shock of being dragged out of bed by a grown man acting like a puppy, after months of radio silence from Lance, for a proud reveal of Lance’s new vessel. 

 

“I’m calling it  _ Princess Allura _ !” He had declared, and when met by a raised eyebrow from Keith, he had admitted, “I’m still making it up to her.” 

 

They have travelled far, with only a distant shadow to indicate land, when Lance decides to let the boat drift. He joins Keith on the deck. 

 

“I thought you didn’t like the ocean,” Lance teases, giving him a playful elbow in the ribcage. 

 

“What gave you that impression?” He says with a smile. The sun is warm on his face, although Keith’s fingers are pretty much turned to ice cubes from the cold wind. He’s relieved that they’ve stopped moving. “I haven’t been on a boat since...you know.” Keith won’t admit it - the god’s ego is big enough as is - but after avoiding it for years after his parent’s accident, he’s forgotten how much he loves being at sea, with nothing but open water and open sky around them. It’s strangely peaceful. 

 

Lance slides his fingers between Keith’s, fitting them together like puzzle pieces. “How have you been?” 

 

“Really good,” and he means it. The unusually warm and clear summer has brought in more tourists than the little town could have hoped for, and Voltron had made more sales in the past month than during the entire off-season. It isn’t enough to get them out of the woods entirely, but the  _ I’m really sorry about your arm...and face...and everything  _ donation that Allura had made towards the store certainly set them on their way to recovery. Shiro has, for the most part, gotten used to his prosthetic arm.

 

It had been fun trying to explain all of that to Hunk and Shay.

 

“It’s been a while,” he says, because he doesn’t want to talk about himself. He wants to talk about them. 

 

Lance turns his back to the water and leans on the rail with an exaggerated sigh. “Ugh, yeah. There are still some things that need to be cleaned up, and the others get fussy if I leave Altea for too long.” 

 

“Will you stay tonight?” Keith asks softly.

 

“That depends,” the god answers with a smirk, already leaning closer. “Did you miss me?” 

 

Keith can nearly taste his lips.  _ Lance, I love you _ . 

 

“You know I did.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, i have a handful of things to address. 
> 
> First of all, thank you all SO MUCH for reading this. Like I have said many times, I've never published a work with more than one chapter before, and this got over 200 kudos and 2000 hits. that's way more than i expected when i posted the first chapter about a month ago. i don't even know how to properly express how grateful i am to everybody that's taken time to read this,, thank you. 
> 
> come and find me on instagram @keithsgaythoughts. i love to make friends and yell about space gays and other fandoms. seriously, i'm awkward as fuck but i don't bite so just slide into those dm's....i actually don't really post much but i am going to be using it to keep you guys up-to-date for my next fic, which brings me to: 
> 
> while i have been editing and posting the last few chapters of this fic, i've actually been working quite hard on the beginnings of a new fic! unfortunately i am not going to be able to post it this week because i'm swamped with work and getting ready for school...but the first chapter should be up after the weekend. it's going to be a bit different than this one and in my opinion much better. so keep your eyes open for that!


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